Covenants: Quantum Dream (Hymn of the Multiverse Book 11) by Terra Whiteman

Author:Terra Whiteman [Whiteman, Terra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shatter Star Press
Published: 2021-05-29T22:00:00+00:00

*

— and then I am laying in a fetal position in front of a bonfire.

I start to my feet immediately, surveying the familiar cavern walls laden with Antediluvian script. Relief washes over me when I think I’ve made it out, but the relief turns to dread as soon as I realize that I am still missing my headset.

The cave doesn’t feel the same, either. The hearth isn’t blue, but red. It looks like normal fire. There is a distant, repetitive drip, drip, drip sound from somewhere within the umbra. The air is crisp, cool. I don’t move for a while, analyzing the situation. The charge is gone from my skin and I can’t feel the vibrato in my mind anymore; I am once again nothing. Meek.

It seems Ikhtar took some measures this time.

All right.

I take a deep breath, clench and unclench my fists, and move toward the tunnel.

No nightmare comes as I am swallowed by shadows, only a brief sense of unease before the tunnel opens into a geodic cavern that stretches further than my weak, lesser eyes can strain to see. The dripping water is from the cavern ceiling, somewhere beyond the vacuous black. When one taps my head I flinch and look up, only to get hit in the face with another.

I sidestep the water’s path (at least I hope it’s water, Cosmos help me) and gingerly weave through the darkness. The Enigmus emblem on my coat breast suddenly sparks, bleeding light around me; a dome, roughly ten feet in radius. This is the first time the emblem has burned in Eschatis. I don’t know what it means, but I am thankful for the light.

I traverse the cavern for what seems like an eternity, dodging some stalagmites and tripping over others. Eventually the faint and familiar sound of chimes permeate the silence. I am inured to this phenomenon, and welcome it.

I reach another staircase, this one not so extraordinary. There may be Antediluvian script, but I can’t see it nor do I really care anymore. The novelty wore off a while ago, not to mention I have nothing with which to log any of it. A cylindrical partition sections the stairs, made of craggy cavern wall. The steps spiral upward, into the unknown.

I don’t even hesitate this time. Anywhere is better than here.

The staircase leads into a grand hallway constructed of metal and opaque stone. The space is vast, the ceiling at least a hundred feet high. Antediluvian script lines the adjacent walls, giving off a décor-effect. There are panels above that, spaced fifty paces apart, holding moving images of swirling fog and cosmic matter. I am stunned by the scenery. It takes me a good while before pressing on.

It is so quiet here that my footsteps echo through the vestibule. I glance cautiously at each panel that I pass, as part of me expects something to emerge from them. They are strikingly similar to the gateway barriers of Eschatian waystations.

And then I realize that I am the First.

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